31.
Near Stewart DropPort, New Edinburgh Lothian, Stewart Prefecture VII, The Republic 27 September 3134 With the invading forces of the Marik-Stewart Commonwealth running headlong into the unforeseen presence of most of Beta Aimag, and the on-world militia splitting along lines of loyalty to The Republic (led by the legate) and loyalty to the old House Marika"forces determined to fight alongside the invaders (led by the earl)a"the battle for the world of Stewart devolved into utter chaos within hours, as the multisided conflict spilled heavy blood on all sides before the sun set on the first day.
With careful planning, Petr unleashed his mixed-force Trinary in the early dawn hours several days later, the sun just peeling back the veil of night, piercing curtains and wooded thickets with equal diligence. Weather reports from satellitesa"and mean temperature averages gleaned from a quick stab of the electronic finger into planetary weather databasesa"showed a bright, crisp morning in the offing. Hoping to catch the combatants tired and worn-out, and using the dawn attacka"a cla.s.sic tactic since the beginning of warfare millennia in the pasta"Petr set down near the largest remaining concentration of Beta Aimag personnel, prepared for a quick and decisive victorya aand all h.e.l.l broke loose.
aI have contact, sector 3A, twenty-two by four. Approximately eight hundred meters. Coming fast.a The disembodied voice seemed to materialize within the confines of his c.o.c.kpita"a spectral ent.i.ty to accompany the snow-thick fog that layered the entire region so thoroughly that Petr felt as though his Tiburon was pushing handfuls of the stuff aside just to move.
aI copy, Garo. Do not engage unless they leave you no choice.a aAff, ovKhan.a The voice carried about as much confidence as that felt by a Knight left by the disorganized Republic to face a Capellan onslaught.
No plan survives contact with the enemy. The aphorism did not help in the slightest.
Petr felt the drag of the cables behind the neurohelmet momentarily as he leaned forward slightly to toggle from magscan to radar on his secondary screen. He shook his head and swallowed roughly; phlegm caught for a moment, and he swallowed it with a grimace. Looked at the jumble of markers staining his screen like toys randomly thrown from a childas hand, clenched his jaw to open a secondary channel.
aJesup, where are you?a The commline remained silent, his call on their private channel dead as well. He opened up the general frequency and called again.
The world strobed to brilliance, as sun-hot energy flared within the fog, washing his forward viewscreen into total whiteout; even protected by the polarization of the viewscreen and his neurohelmet, he blinked several times to clear his vision. Afterimages of a particle projector cannon-stream roping through the air, crackling with savage energy, left his eyes aching. It missed by scant centimeters.
Petr cursed loudly, stomping down on pedals (left, right, left, right) as he threw the throttle full-forward; the whine of the gyro setting into the base of his skull like an angry hornet as the Tiburon jinked wildly to his commands.
aWhere the h.e.l.l did that come from?a he raged, turning a quick eye to his radar, trying to determine why his attacker didnat show up. With casual ease, even considering his hastiness, Petr raised the aMechas right arm and flashed off twin heavy medium lasers in the general direction from which the shot came. The fog almost rolled back from the h.e.l.lish orange energy streams as they tore through the air, hopefully backing off the opponent head not yet identified.
He ground his teeth. With the mangled confusion of the a.s.sault broken up by multiple sides and the heavy fog, the computeras IFF tags refused to accept the input that Beta Aimag personnel were the enemy.
Sudden shapes loomed: spectral corpses rising from the ground, reaching out toward him with large skeletal claws to rend and tear. Startled, he had both aMechas arms up and blazing away before the small copse of trees fully registered in his forebrain. As he unclenched his fist, cursing himself for a fool, he watch as several trees collapsed, sections cleanly, surgically removed, while others remained afire.
The abrupt tone of incoming fire pierced his skull and years of training sent the aMech swiveling one hundred eighty degrees and dropping to a low crouch, the giant left hand digging deep furrows into the loam for balance as a quartet of missiles spiraled down, finding him unerringly regardless of his preternatural move. Armor detonated into shrapnel and debris as the streak missiles found ample targets across the Tiburonas chest and its left arm.
This time, however, through the shifting sheets of cottony white, Petr glimpsed a shadowy shape backing away and to the left of his current position. Without conscious thought, frustrated by his inability to find his tormentor, Petr launched forward from the crouched positiona"a sprinter flying off the stops, almost gaining air before the heavy treads tore into the ground, gaining purchase and sending the aMech careening toward its target.
A quick left-right flick of the targeting reticule sent a brace of missiles to either side of where Petr saw the ghostly aMech-shaped opponent; he hoped to corral the enemy and keep it off guard. A sudden dip in the terrain dropped his stomach, causing his gorge to rise (the phlegm slick did not help) as he actually rose slightly out of his seat, only kept in place by his five-point harness. The Tiburon slammed down into the depression with bone-shattering force, then continued on.
Petr cursed at the pain of having bitten his tongue, cursed again as he just managed to miss a large boulder that he swore sprouted from the ground like a giant toadstool. Readying another curse, he instead clamped down hard on a threatening cough and felt satisfaction as his elusive prey finally presented itself: a Panther tried to imitate the boulder recently left behind, springing up from a low-lying position, weapons blazing.
Through luck or good maneuvering, the Pantheras most devastating weapon swung wide, its arcing energies reaving an arc of death past his head. The missiles, however, proved more accurate, with an avalanche peppering his aMech. Weathering the storm of metal, Petr brought his own weapons to bear, firing off quad short-range missiles and an equal number of heavy medium lasers. With the accuracy that had landed him a command slot right out of his Trial of Position, three of the four lasers found their mark, carving a scar of runnels over the right torso; they burst past the outer armor and savaged the interior as the missiles followed up with their own explosions.
A bright light blossomed within the gaping wound, seeking to escape. The top of the Pantheras head blew away, the command couch rocketing to safety as the streak missile ammo detonated, carving the aMech cleanly in half. Bringing his dangerous mad dash to a more manageable level, Petr closed his jaw, which hung open in stunned shock.
Already well damaged. The fighting must have been truly intense.
He pa.s.sed the burning wreckage, trying not to think about the parafoil even now deploying and bringing a Sea Fox Clansman down to the ground. His Clan. His Khanate. No Rituals of Combat, but battle to the death.
Neg. He must avoid such thoughts at all cost.
Unclenching his right hand, almost rigid with stress and pain, from around the targeting joystick, he pumped several fists and rotated the wrist; popping tendons told of still too little strength in his right arm. As with his thoughts, he ignored the dull pain throbbing through his right shoulder. It would live, as would he.
aJesup, where are you?a he called once more, trying to locate his XO, bringing the Tiburon to a full stop as he concentrated on his secondary display.
They had set their DropShip down scant kilometers from the DropPort. With air cover nonexistent and the fighting winding down, Petr felt the risk worth the prize: a quick victory. But in the chaos of a three-sided (and sometimes four-, whenever some of the on-planet militia decided they wanted to change allegiance) conflict and the savashri fog, theyad been splintered, lost.
From some of the others he could accept such inept.i.tude, but not from Jesup. Regardless of his faults and impatience, the man held real tactical sense. Should not have become so lost.
aJesup, do you copy?a he said again, opening the commline to the general frequency once more, regardless of how insecure it might make the rest of his troops feel. He must locate his aide and then begin to pull his forces back together. Back together, to move against Sha.
aovKhan Kalasa, so nice of you to drop in uninvited.a The voice blossomed in his ears with its usual coldness, a clamminess that fit the austere, fog-wrapped landscape like a Kuritan fit his blade. aThen again, I did drop in uninvited on you last time, so I guess it is only fair you return the favor, quiaff?a Though his left fist clenched immediately on the throttle, eyes scanning the radar screen and magscan as he toggled back and forth, Petr realized he simply could not untangle the mess of smeared images across the screen; Sha could be any of them.
Unclenching an aching jaw, he finally responded, aBut, Sha, you did invite me.a aOh, how so?a The hint of levity sent Petras vision red. aBy your actions. By your desire to sunder Clan Sea Fox, you invited me.a aAnd what actions would those be, ovKhan Kalasa?a aYour collusion with the Jade Falcons to murder our Khan.a The words rushed out of him, as though too large for his body to hold any longer. They took on a life of their own, growing until Petr felt they rose over the battlefield, almost over the entire world of Stewart, screaming to the universe of Shaas horrible perfidy.
Silence stretched long, leaving Petr alone, enclosed within his own tomb of white. After some time, a chuckle sounded across the line; he stiffened. The affront simply proved everything. Sha did not try to deny the words. Did not try to rationalize or convince Petr of his actions. He simply laughed. For a moment the rage welled up and he shook, felt as though he would tear the joysticks from their mounts.
aPetr,a Sha said. The familiar form of address only strengthened his anger. aI am surprised at you. Such a spheroid term. If I shot him in the back, then you could accuse me of such an act. But my actions? I simply arranged for a test. A Trial of Grievance, if you will, against our beloved Khan. If he pa.s.ses, so be it. I am proved wrong. But if he does nota"and I for one, believe he will faila"then I am proved right.
aIs that not, ovKhan, the essence of the Clans? Might makes right.a Petr felt his nose itch, wriggled his face and sniffed hard, grimaced again at the slickness sliding down his throat, coughed.
aAre we getting a cold, ovKhan? Not very warriorlike, eh, Petr?a aYou twist the ways of the Clan,a he began, ignoring the snide remark. aSuch trials are for within a Clan. You do not, in secret, contact someone outside of the Clan to enact a trial you yourself do not dare declare. You cannota"a aAnd what if I had, Petr?a Sha broke in, raising his voice slightly, catching Petr off guard. aI told you the day you lay in bed after your defeat at my hands, the Khan would have ignored my requested trial. saKhan Sennet would not have moved, no matter how much convincing I might be able to do. I have heard of your constant spouting of achoices,a ovKhan. Well, I have made mine.a aThen you have made them to your own defeat.a aAnd who will defeat me? You? Have I not already defeated you?a aAff,a Petr said, slowly beginning to move his aMech forward once more, pinpointed Shaas location on his radar. aYou did defeat me, which should make your acceptance of this Trial of Grievance easy for you.a aAnd if I wish to simply continue battling? Regardless of the interruption of the Marik forces, I still have superior numbers. And, ovKhan, a wonderful move, that. Just wonderful. Worthy of myself.a The chuckle felt like a tossed gauntlet, hard and unyielding as it slapped his face.
aThen you would be as selfish as you have accused me of being.a Petr swallowed, closed his eyes momentarily and realized he must make the admission. Must goad him into single combat. To resolve this, so the rift could be healed. Much more of this brutal fighting and the remnants of Beta Aimag might never be fully integrated back into the wateras embrace.
aAnd, Sha, regardless of your misguided efforts, I must thank you. You were right. I have been selfish. My actions have been geared toward my own glory and not that of Clan Sea Fox. Not that of my people. For that, I will make sure your memory lives ona for me.a Another lengthy pause swallowed the moment, while the whine of gyros and the thudding of aMech footfalls accompanied the Tiburon through the fog.
You are right there. Petr kept his eyes alternating between the graphic display of the radar and his forward viewscreen. Light flared ahead, sunlight streaming in, as though eating away the fog like a virulent pathogen consuming flesh.
aI never thought to hear such an admission from you,a Sha responded, his voice subdued almost to a whisper.
aWe can all learn from our errors. I certainly have learned from mine. Will you learn from yours?a aAh, reverse psychology.a The chuckle once more, cold and unfeeling. aBut aff, ovKhan. I will accept your rebuke and your conditions. I will end this here and now. All my hopes and plans placed in the balance of might makes right. The Clan way, quiaff?a aAff.a As he responded, the Tiburon stepped from the edge of the fog as though it were sheered away by a glacier: one moment darkness, and the next, not a hint of cloud in a lapis lazuli vaulting sky and a sun reaching zenith, pounding down with brutal brightness, sparking tears despite the polarization in his viewscreen. Some five hundred meters before him, as though they knew exactly where he would appear, a handful of aMechs and vehicles waited, Shaas Sphinx in front.
And slightly to the left, the unmistakable outline of Jesupas Thor.
32.
Near Stewart DropPort, New Edinburgh Lothian, Stewart Prefecture VII, The Republic 27 September 3134 Though his boots smacked the damp ground with firm reality (water vapor steaming from the ground in every direction under the merciless onslaught of noon), Petr felt his head no longer attached fully to his body. Instead, it became a balloon, tied to a ten-meter cord, bounced, jounced and jangled in a stiff gale, as he slowly began walking toward the gathering of Beta Aimag personnel.
Though most Sea Fox trials involved hand-to-hand combata"a result of so much time aboard starfaring vesselsa"Petr particularly felt the burning need to face down Sha, to look the man in the eyes as he defeated him. Still, it had surprised Petr for a moment when Sha actually agreed, until he remembered his wounded arm.
No surprise at all, an excellent tactical move.
Tears coursed unfelt down his cheeks at the too-bright light. Eyes too used to the playfulness of Adhafera, whose sun beamed momentarily from behind an endless slate comforter before quickly hiding its facea"a toddler laughing mischievously, hiding until the next moment to take someone unawares with its brightness.
The smells of the new world could not dent the numbness wadded around him. Not even his anger, which should have been white-hot and searing, could penetrate the depths of his malaise.
Jesup.
Petras feet followed a course presented by his subconscious brain while he continued to float, to spin lazily, to withdraw in denial.
Not the treachery, anger.
Not the seemingly unClanlike behavior, bitter disappointment.
His detachment hid a deeper emotion, one he could not bear to face. He had finally, painfully come to grips with his failings, had finally recognized how much his aidea"his frienda"was a part of the fabric of his life. Now, to have that foundation destroyed, to have the source of his pain flaunted in front of him by the man who sought to destroy his Clana hiding was the only option.
The last distance pa.s.sed as a dream. One moment Petr crossed the distance, and in another eyeblink he stood before Sha and his confidants. Those who tied themselves to his plan and to the ultimate consequences. Unblinking, he gazed at the crowd, his brain automatically editing the image: a human-shaped black outline in their midst cut out by his own eyesight.
With the words he wanted to say d.a.m.ned up tight, Petr stood motionless, unblinking, unfeeling, uncaring.
He once told someone he would do whatever it took to stop Sha. Whatever it took.
Now, standing in the bright sunshine, he had no shade for relief, no shadows for protection from the harsh consequences of his actions, from the recognition of the true cost of the butcheras bill laid upon the scales. Despite his smothering numbness, the cold, a.n.a.lytical merchant brain summed up the columns of debts paid and owed and came up with a balance sheet in the black. Every individual in front of him would cease to exist, paying for their crimes of treachery with their lifea and against the continued existence of the Clan, there could be no comparison. No compromise.
Yet the personal pricea aIs something wrong, ovKhan Kalasa?a Sha finally broke the tableau, his cool features quirked into the semblance of a smilea"a predator toying with its prey. aHas your cold gotten the better of you?a Petr opened his mouth to speak, but nothing emerged; moths of despair had eaten their fill and fled.
aWell, I believe that flu has him under the weather. Perhaps he is not nearly as strong after our last encounter as he believed. Quiaff, Jesup?a aAff,a came a m.u.f.fled, soft reply.
Petr quivered for a moment as though in a palsy, before stillness returned. He did not wish to hear that name, hear that voice. Simply to the fight and be done with it.
aA Trial of Annihilation,a Petr spit his challenge through frozen lips. aNow.a A gasp from a woman to Shaas right caused Petr to transfer his gaze momentarily, before returning his concentration to the only opponent who mattered.
Shaas eyebrows rose and his thin-lipped smile stretched into a ghastly grin. aAnnihilation,a he said, as though tasting the word for its weight, its power. aAnd I thought we were simply here for grievances between friends.a aIt cannot be any other way.a His shoulder ached with a hint of the pain to come; as with all else, Petr ignored it. aThere can be no other way.a aThere are always other ways, other choices. Jesup has told me often of the choices you have made. Of your prattle about choices. Quiaff? You make a choice. I make a choice. We all make a choice. There are always other ways.a Sha glanced back over his shoulder, focusing on the person Petr fought desperately to ignore, turned back and began moving toward him. aJesup made a choice some time ago. Saw what I and so many others have known for so long. Saw you using all around you without a care for their potential beyond numbers on a balance sheet.a He stepped into the large circle quickly inscribed into the ground. aAmazing what a hand in friendship can do.a The crushing weight of that statement slammed through all the defenses he had carefully erected. Cutting straight, a saber thrust true to the heart.
Petr slowly swiveled his head (felt like the ratchety swivel of a worn gun turret zoning in to target) toward Jesup. The other tried to avoid his eyes, then seemed to suck in a breath and stare at him across the distance. Petr tried to find something within those depths to explain what happened, but he already knew. Knew and did not want to face it, any more than he wanted to face Jesupas betrayal and the ultimate cost of that choice.
A memory from what seemed a lifetime ago surfaced. He had finally found Jesup without words; the wallowing almost broke him.
I did this. His callous arrogance would kill a valuable a.s.set to the Clan: a valuable a.s.set to him, a friend.
He stepped into the circle.
aTrial of Annihilation,a Petr said again. The words carved themselves in fire in the afternoon sky, unretractable, unforgiving, unrelenting. If Sha lost this battle, all those who stood with him would die, as would any sibkos carrying their genes. Every ounce of blood, every splice of gene that carried their tainted code would be spilled, expunged from the Clanas genetic repositories and breeding programs. A surgeonas practiced slice to remove the malignant tumor.
Such, after all, was the way of the Clans.
Such would be the way all would perish, the way Jesup would perish.
Sha nodded once, finally; a moan from amid the onlookers was the only sound.
Petr simply walked slowly toward Sha, who dropped into a low, stable stance, hands outstretched.
aYou still do not look well,a Sha said. aShould we call a break first, have some fusionnaires to deaden the pain in your arm?a Petr hesitated, confused. This talking did not fit Sha. Several scenarios rolled around in his head, but none could find purchase to materialize. Too much cotton still left, too much numbing and distance. He shrugged slowly, moved again, uncaring of the quick darts left and right made by Sha.
Almost within armas reach, Sha took a quick step forward and jabbed three times in succession at different parts of Petras body. Hammer right, chop left, thrust straight.
Petr countered each with a smooth deflection of hand and forearm, though a hair slower than Sha. Although Sha had a slim frame, his muscles were whipcords of strength and speed.
Taking a half step back, Petr tried to better gauge Sha, but felt hampered by his mindas continued lack of interest. Of simple curiosity. It had utterly shut down upon learning of Jesupas betrayal, was not yet recovered. He simply didnat care. Yes, he would do his duty; he would save the Clan. But how he got from here to there no longer held interest for him.
Whether he got there, he cared not at all.
As though sensing easy prey caught in the shallows, Sha slinked left, trying to place himself into Petras right quarter and the weakened arm. Petr, still slack faced and unemotional, made no move to counter the tactic. With a twist kick and spin, Sha hammered a blow in toward Petras midsection, which his years of training deflected with a raised inward right leg and swung right arm; the dull ache spiked alive, a dragon awaking from slumber, unsheathing claw and tooth.
The two moved smoothly back and forth, trading blow for blow, with Sha landing more often, all concentrated on the weakened right side.
Through Petras disconnected haze, the shocks felt distant, delivered to a body viewed at armas length, outside of himself. Blood ran down a face not his own from a roundhouse splitting open skin under his left eye, right hand curled in three broken fingers he did not feel, torn ligaments in the right shoulder an outcry for a different face and name.
Three times he fell and each time rose.
The look on Shaas face waxed and waned, from confidence, to arrogance, to frustration and now verged on something Petr could not put his finger on. Regardless, the fists and feet moved with preternatural speed, continued their incessant attempts to knock him down. To keep him down.
Though Petr delivered his own set of badges in return, he fell behind the damage delivered with gus...o...b.. Sha.
A particularly savage uppercut slipped past Petras ineffectual right-hand guard, connecting with his jaw and lifting him clean into the air before dropping him like a aMech with a destroyed gyro, splayed, to the ground.
Head ringing, fireworks exploding in eyes wide with anguish, Petr responded as his mind immediately rolled its disconnected body enough to the side that it could gain a purchase and began to lever itself back up.
aStay down, surat!a Sha panted, standing at a kickas distance. aAdmit your defeat.a Petr slowly swiveled swollen eyes in his direction, briefly felt the sting of sweat in the corners of his eyes, the copper hint of blood from broken teeth and torn gums.
Tried to understand the look on Shaas face. Surprise. No. Fear? (Not a hint.) Disbelief. No, more. Awe.
Slowly maneuvered himself back to his feet, stood swaying for a moment; not even his mindas indomitable will could ignore the ma.s.sive trauma to his body indefinitely. Loss of blood and pain brought blackness that threatened to sweep away his cares.
Deep within the confines of such uncaring, a spark of Petr remained. The spark that cared. The spark that knew he had already paid the ultimate price for stopping Sha, for his own arrogance. Knew the price of his body a small notation on the balance sheet in an already giant column.
Clumsily moved forward.
aStop,a Sha said again, grunting with his own pain and effort. aAdmit defeat!a he thundered; Petr stopped in stunned disbelief at the completely out-of-character outburst. Another note entered Shaas voice, something Petr could not place right away. Through the shrouds of pain that lay across his brain like a veil, it slowly surfaced: a cork popping up from too much pressure.
Respect. Honest, true respect. A warrior acknowledging the valor of another.
Creasing split lips, spitting out blood and a tooth, he gazed at Sha. Switched the gaze momentarily to Jesup, who stood impa.s.sively watching on the sidelines; dual epiphanies sprang into existence, grew and intertwined with verdant, desperate need. With understanding.
Nothing he could do would change the pain of Jesupas betrayal. You could not expect someone, not even a Clansman, to serve for nothing; yet he made a choice as well.
Petr had already defeated Sha, shown him and those who followed him that whether Petr lived or died, regardless of the distances grown between the Khanates, the spirit of the Sea Fox Clan could not be broken, would never be sundered, not by forces without and certainly not by forces within. Realized that this strength flowed in him, could be tapped when all else failed.
Straightening, smiling, without anger, without pain or bitterness for the first time in long weeks, Petr responded, aI am Clan Sea Fox.a Dragging in a deep breath to lungs starved of life, he launched one final a.s.sault.
Epilogue.